“So, now what?” James asks, his hand slipping lower and pulling me closer. “What’s your next step?”
I’m slightly distracted, thinking about the steps I want to take in the next two minutes, but that’s just part of the buildup I’m learning to enjoy. “Intern with Doc for the summer, then head back for vet school in the fall. It’ll take me three years of mostly classwork, then one year of clinical before I can take the licensing test. I definitely want to work with large animals, so probably try to do as much clinical work as I can and assist vets like Doc, who work ranches, or maybe like the vet that travels with the rodeo. After that, I guess I’ll see where I can do the most good, where I feel most at home. It’ll be a while, and I’ll be starting my real work older than some people, but I’m lucky. I’ve found what I really want to do.”
James makes an approving sound, and for some reason I’m happy he seems to like my plan, not calling it a crazy dream or a wild goose chase like some people have. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. Girl with a plan. I like that. Can’t say I’ve ever been accused of having a plan, but I can appreciate that you do.”
I grin, turning to place my hand on his belt buckle, which despite the stereotype isn’t huge and brass. The huge, hard thing’s a few inches lower. “Oh, I think you make plans, consciously or subconsciously. Did you think I didn’t notice how you got me alone in the dark up here, in the bed of your truck with a blanket? That seems like a definite plan, I’d say. What’s step two in your devious plan, Cowboy?”
He moves in, crowding me and urging me to lie down against the cushion of the sleeping bag in the truck bed, the long line of his legs stretched out alongside mine as he props himself on one elbow beside me.
His blue eyes smolder as he looks intently at my face, and I can’t help but tempt him as I bite my lower lip.
“Step two?” James asks, cupping my face. “This . . .”
He leans down, meeting my lips with gentle, unyielding power, not devouring me yet but letting me know he’s the man with the plan here. I’m thrilled to go along with him, giving myself over to him. He licks along my lower lip, and I open for him, letting him inside to tangle our tongues together.
I feel a vibrating tingle in my hands and realize that I’ve balled his shirt up in my fist and that he’s moaning, rumbling through his chest as I pull him tighter to me. Apparently, while my mind is happy to play along, my body isn’t quite ready to give James full control.
My body is demanding, wanting, needing more, and I whimper, licking his lip plaintively. James understands and moves his lips down, kissing and licking along my jawline, down the curve of my neck, and turning my whimper into a whine of desire. His free hand is busy, too, working my shirt up, exposing my belly to the warm night air.
I flinch as his fingertips brush along my ribs, tickling me for a split second before he cups my bra-covered breast, all ticklish thoughts evaporating as I arch into his touch. “Yessss . . .”
James lifts up, propping himself above me and pinning me beneath him. “Fuck, Soph, I need to see you.”
I lift up slightly, letting him slip my T-shirt over my head as I reach behind my back to unclasp my bra. James lifts it off, slipping it down my arms, leaving me topless and exposed to his look, his touch. I feel sexy, powerful, and vulnerable all at the same time, a heady mix that intensifies with every heartbeat.
“You’re beautiful,” James says, glancing down at my breasts with their caps of pink nipples. “They’re even yummier looking than I imagined, already hard and ready for me.”
He reaches a thumb toward me, my nipple tightening up even more in anticipation as he strums lightly across the nub. I gasp, pulling him down as he rumbles throatily, ducking his head down to hungrily suck my breast into his mouth, drawing deeply as his tongue flicks across my nipple.
I inhale, arching my chest up to him, silently begging for more, before I give in and do it out loud. “Oh God, James . . . more . . . please.”
He lifts up, reaching behind his neck to rip his shirt over his head before lifting my leg to reposition himself between my thighs. I spread wider to give him room before bending my knees to grip his torso, locking him in place against me as my hips buck with a mind of their own.
“You gonna rub that hot little pussy on me again?” James challenges me, pinching my nipple again and pulling lightly. “That’s fine; take what you need, darlin’. But don’t come. You don’t come until I’m there to taste your sweetness as you come on my face.”
I groan at his words, wanting his tongue right now, running my fingers through his hair to pull at him, direct him lower. Instead he holds his position, returning his mouth to my other breast, licking and nibbling as he drives me wild with want.
For a moment I think that I might come just from his ministrations to my breasts, it’s that good, especially as I writhe against him—something about him holding me in place by the weight of his body doing delicious things to me. My pussy is throbbing, electrically chafed by my panties and jeans as I grind against him, desperate for more, desperate for skin-to-skin contact.
Just when I’m on the edge of losing my mind, he moves lower, nipping along the waist of my jeans as he undoes them and pulls them down. I toe my boots off, dropping them to the side with a thud and at the same time shimmying as I help him ease the tight denim of my jeans down and off.
I reach for my panties, too, eager to take them off as well, but James seems to have another plan. He lifts my legs, bringing me up until his face is inches from my panty-covered mound, inhaling my scent through the soaked fabric and humming in appreciation as he runs a finger along the wetness. “Even your sex smells good. Real. Intoxicating.”
He blows an openmouthed, hot breath of air across me, and even in the warmth of the night air, the heat penetrates me, and I whimper, begging him for more.
“You ready, Soph? God, I need to taste you. I need to know if you taste like strawberries here too.”
“Please . . .” I whimper, desperate. “Please, I need your tongue.”
He nuzzles his nose against my cotton-covered clit for a split second before giving in to my original plan and pulling my panties down my legs. Before they’re even all the way off, James is devouring me, licking with his broad, flat tongue in a long line that goes all the way from the bottom of my pussy to my clit. Fire and heat drip from his lips as his tongue rasps along my clit, rocking me hard. It’s electric heaven, and I cry out, grasping for his head to make him do it again.
Whether my plan or his, he consumes my pussy with eager strokes of his tongue, pausing to leave light kisses along my soft folds and lapping up every drop as I get wetter and wetter.
James gets to his knees and, sitting back on his heels, pushes my bent legs open wide. It feels naughty, wanton, to be naked in the moonlight while he’s still mostly dressed, and I fight the urge to spread them wider. I’m normally reserved, actually, but something about James makes me want him to see me, to drive him crazy like he’s doing to me.
He smiles dreamily as he traces a fingertip along my inner thigh, and I slide my hips, hoping he’ll slip it inside me, fill this emptiness in my pussy, so I have something to clench against.
He pauses at my entrance, teasing me with little strokes that have me whimpering in need again. “Is this what you want? You want me to fill your hungry little pussy with my fingers . . . or do you want my cock?”
The idea of his cock makes my body shiver in anticipation, and I grab the back of my knees, not caring if I look like a nympho or not. “Yes . . . God, yes.”
James chuckles, reaching for his belt. “Hmm, that was an either-or, not a yes or no. Guess it’s my choice. And I choose . . .”
I’m writhing, begging for his cock, knowing he’ll tear me apart and I’ll love every second of it. “Oh fuck, James . . . please . . .”
Without warning, he thrusts his finger inside me. I’m shocked, and before I can say anything, he pulls out before pumping two fingers this time, creat
ing a pounding rhythm that makes my walls quiver. “Fuck . . . James!”
James’s fingers never stop, and his voice is laced with the steely tones of command as he looks in my eyes. “Hold it, Sophie. Don’t come yet. I can feel your tight pussy fluttering against my fingers, but wait. I’ll make it worth it . . . right to the edge, but not yet.”
He curls his fingers, rubbing me in a way that has me barely holding on before he touches his tongue back to my clit, swirling it in tiny circles that light my nerve endings on fire.
I grab handfuls of the sleeping bag, trying to ground myself to space, to time, to this moment because I’m floating away. The sparks behind my closed eyelids are no longer the bright stars of the night sky but flashes as the electricity races from my pussy through my whole being.
I cry out, warning him or asking permission, I’m not sure which, “Jaaaames . . .”
He growls into my clit, never losing pace with his punishing rhythm. “Do it, Soph. Come for me. Now.”
And I explode, or implode . . . I don’t know. All I know is that I’ve never felt anything like this before.
Whatever I thought good sex, a good orgasm, was before is nothing compared to what James does with two fingers and his tongue.
Fuck.
I’m thrashing about, trying to catch my breath and come back to Earth as I feel swept away again and again. I only come back when I realize James is leaning over me, an arm on each side of my face, watching every expression that crosses my face. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers. “Watching you . . . beautiful.”
Feeling a little more whole, I smile dreamily at him, and he bends down to cover my mouth in a kiss. I taste myself on his tongue, and it turns me on even more. He sits back, bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick and suck them clean, stoking the heat inside me again as he moans in appreciation.
Everything about him is hot, and even though I’m still recovering, I’m ready to return the favor. I move to sit up, running my hands down his bare chest to his button, but he stops me. “Soph, tonight was about you.”
“What?” I ask, and he nods. “But what about you?”
He shakes his head softly, smiling. “The best rides are the ones where you let the anticipation build. Besides, I don’t want you to think I’m an easy lay.”
I laugh, stroking his face. “You’re terrible.”
“Never claimed otherwise,” he says, still smiling. “I did find out almost everything I wanted to know about you tonight, though.”
“What do you still want to find out?” I ask.
He looks at my pussy, obviously in appreciation, and takes a deep inhale as he shudders. “Not yet . . . soon. But I need to know . . . what are you doing tomorrow night?”
CHAPTER 10
JAMES
The heat beats down outside as I take a quick minute for a sandwich lunch in the shady barn with Mark and Luke. Mama’s always made good sandwiches, and preparing lunch in advance gives her a chance to go to town during the days to get her errands done. As the corned beef with Dijon mayonnaise hits my tongue, I moan happily.
My feet are propped on the desk in the corner even though Mark gave me an evil eye about daring to disturb his desk like this, but fuck it. It’s not really his desk; it’s a table that we keep the written details about barn stuff at.
“So, you going to start charging Sophie money for parking Doc’s truck here all the time?” Luke jokes. “Or are you collecting payments in other ways?”
“I might be a bit of a shit,” I reply, sipping on a big glass of iced tea, “but you know I’m not the type to kiss and tell.” I answer Luke, but I look at Mark and give him a big wink.
Mark relaxes a little. He always does when I needle him; I think it’s one of the reasons I do it so much. “Luke, I think our little brother is full of more bullshit than the east pasture.”
“Kiss my ass,” I laugh, reaching for my sandwich. “I’m keeping my trap shut, so you two gossip queens can go pound sand in your ass with your questions.”
We laugh, and in the laughter I feel good. They’re not jealous; it’s just fun and what we do.
In a quiet moment, Mark’s ear perks up a split second before we hear it too . . . a truck pulling down the drive. “You expecting Sophie early today?”
I shake my head, finishing off my sandwich. “Not until late this afternoon like usual. You?”
Mark glances at Luke, who shakes his head. “Not expecting anyone here either.”
We all get up and line up in the opening of the barn door to see a shiny silver four-door dually. It veers toward the barn, spraying rocks a little as the driver hits the brakes a bit hard. The door opens, and we relax a bit, seeing that it’s Paul Tannen, the owner of the neighboring ranch.
The Tannens and our family have had a decent relationship over most of my life. I wouldn’t call Mr. Tannen and Pops friends, but where our lands touch, we’ve cooperated, splitting the costs of fence maintenance and on the rare occasions when something wanders one way or another across the line, giving a call and bringing it back. I haven’t seen him since getting back, but like I said, he’s a decent neighbor, not a friend.
Mark steps forward, offering a handshake. “Good afternoon, Mr. Tannen. Good to see you. Didn’t recognize your truck; get a new ride?”
Mr. Tannen shakes each of our hands with a nod of greeting before answering Mark. “Sure did. Sweet little cherry on top of a shit sundae, I’d say. Right about the time we got the check for selling off this year’s crop, which was dang good, if I say so myself, my son’s truck died. Passed him down my old one; it’ll get him at least another hundred thousand, I think, unless he drives it like he did the last one. And I got a new ride out of the deal. Wanna take a look?”
We all shrug, heading over because like most any men, we’ll happily take a look at a truck, discuss towing capacity and horsepower as we ooh and aah over cushy seats and a good stereo.
“I see you put a fifth-wheel hitch in,” Luke says. “Gonna use this for your horse trailers?”
“That’s the plan,” Paul agrees. “Now, my horses aren’t as fine a line as yours, I’ll admit. But they’re strong and dependable. Good stock.”
There’s a lull in truck talk, and Paul jumps in. “Look, I didn’t come over just to brag on my new truck today. I was hoping to catch you, Mark. But all three of you boys might be even better.”
I read his tone of voice right away. Looking over at Mark, who has assumed his fuck-off stance, feet spread wide, shoulders down and back, and arms crossed over his chest, I see he’s reading the same vibe I am.
Luke rolls his lips, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and intentionally leaning against Paul’s truck. He makes it look casual, but I know Luke; he’s rattlesnake quick and can turn a man’s lights out in one second from here. I keep my own arms crossed like Mark, deferring to him since he’s the eldest, his role in the ranch more clearly defined. Mark rumbles, his voice dangerously low, “What’s up, Paul?”
Paul puffs up his chest and says his piece. “Boys, I’m real sorry about your Pops passing on like he did. He was a damn fine man and a good rancher.” He pauses, but Mark merely dips his head in acknowledgment. Seeing he’s not cracked us yet, he continues, “This ranch meant everything to him, and you know as well as I do that he’d want to see it successful long after he’s gone. I’ve got the funds and the crews to keep it running top-notch, and I’m interested in buying the land, even the cattle if you want.”
I can feel my heart jump into my throat . . . we’re not selling the BB Ranch. This is our land, our family home! Our own father dies underneath the tree in the front yard, and this motherfucker wants to just buy us out like this land has no meaning to us?
I hold on to my temper and tick my eyes over to Mark. I’m relieved, seeing that he’s clenching his teeth and there’s a coiled tension throughout his body. “And?”
“I tried to talk to Louise about it, but she wouldn’t hear it at the time. Admittedly, it might’ve been a bi
t too soon, but I didn’t know if you’d be in crisis mode or not, and I wanted to offer a neighborly deal to ease her mind if need be,” Paul says, trying to sound like he’s doing us a favor.
I can’t take this anymore and interrupt his sales pitch, because that’s what this is. All his niceties and neighborly care, it’s just a façade so he can slick his way into buying us out, even taking advantage of a widow in her time of mourning. “We’re not selling. This is our home. Not interested,” I spit, fire and anger in my voice. “Anything else?”
I try to say it with finality, but Tannen knows I’m not the de facto family spokesperson here—Mark is. Mark looks at Luke and me before returning his hard look to Paul. His voice is civil and firm. “Paul, we appreciate your consideration, but it’s not necessary. My brother’s right. I assure you that we are doing just fine here and have no plans to sell our property in the near or distant future.”
Paul looks taken aback a bit. I guess he thought we were going to be easy targets, or maybe it’s just Mark’s obvious coldness.
Still, he’s got a hard-on for this sale, and isn’t quite ready to give up yet. “Well, I understand how hard it can be to let go of family ties. You boys just remember that your Pops is not in this land; he’s in your hearts, and he’ll be with you anywhere you go, especially with money in your pockets and knowledge that his land is well cared for. You be sure to let me know if you change your mind and want to discuss some figures.”
Every word sounds right, but there’s an oiliness underlying them, belying his scavenger nature as he tries to take advantage of our unexpected loss. Luke speaks for the first time, looking up with ice in his eyes. “We’ll do that.”
Buck Wild (Bennett Boys Ranch Book 1) Page 8